


Out of Body

by thedisenchanteddaisy



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11660961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedisenchanteddaisy/pseuds/thedisenchanteddaisy
Summary: It didn't matter if it was true, she just wanted to hear it; to memorize the way it felt.





	Out of Body

# Out of Body

Molly laid in bed, for what seemed like hours without rest. She couldn't stop thinking about his call; about what it meant, if it meant anything at all. She told him she loved him, at the cost of ruining what little privacy she had left, it had seemed to her that it was the only secret she had left. Sherlock could figure out anything if he put his mind to it, except what seemed to be common knowledge to anybody else. Her crush had been obvious, but not to Sherlock. The man who could figure out a mystery within a couple hours, but forgot the Earth orbits the Sun. How could one man be so blissfully clueless to her for so long? And why did it hurt so badly to have him know? She had him say it first; so she could hear those words in his voice just once before the illusion was over. It didn't matter if it was true, she just wanted to hear it; to memorize the way it felt. As she laid in her bed, she tried to focus on anything else; the sound of rain, the feeling of her silk sheets, the sound of someone knocking. She sat upright, looking at her clock. 12. Who on earth would come at this hour?  
She wrapped a robe around herself before quietly making her way to her door; careful not to make a sound. She looked through the peephole. The figure was tall; she could see he was wet, but was wearing a long coat and a scarf. She reluctantly opened the door.

"Why are you here?"

"I thought I would apologize," he stated, as he walked in the door. She raised an eyebrow as he took off his coat and cleared her throat. "Oh, mind if I come in?"

"Well, I guess you're already here, so no. Why are you sopping wet?"

"There were no cabs at this hour, so I walked."

Molly was shocked, to say the least, her house wasn't far per say, but it took about forty minutes to get to his flat from hers, and it had been raining for an hour now. He didn't have an umbrella with him, so he walked in the rain to her flat just to apologize? It couldn't be real. She wouldn't believe he'd do something so kind; not for her. After a moment of quiet contemplation, she smiled and decided she could enjoy the dream while it lasted. "Let me get you a towel," she said it softly, closing the door, and walking to her cabinets. She walked back to him with towel in hand, looking at him at awe before asking him why he made her say the three words that felt too bitter to repeat. He didn't meet her gaze for a moment; he seemed to be finding the right words to say, choosing them carefully as not to make the damage any worse than it was.

"I have a sister," he said, looking her dead in the eye, "she threatened to kill you if I didn't. I had to have you say it, Molly." She fell silent. "Molly," he continued, "you have to believe me. It was never to hurt you."

Maybe he was trying to do damage control or maybe he actually meant it; she wasn't sure she cared at the moment. It just felt nice to have her flat less empty on a rainy night for once. She wanted him to stay there until she woke from whatever this was; dream or hallucination. She met his gaze, wondering if his rejection would hurt just as badly in a dream. "Stay," she began quietly, unsure of herself. "If you want to show me that you don't want to hurt me, Sherlock, then stay."

"In your flat or in your life?" The question was simple, but Molly felt unsure of her answer; she supposed it was both, but would she regret the answer? 

"My flat; just for the night?" She said sweetly, a soft smile upon her lips. He seemed to entertain the idea for a moment; even in dreams, she supposed, she wouldn't ever be his priority. The thought stung.

Sherlock supposed it couldn't be too horrible, seeing as her house lined up with how he saw her: it was a bit plain, but made you feel comfortable; it made you feel as if you belonged there, even just temporarily. He agreed, unsure of what to wear if he was soaked to the bone. Molly had enough common sense to remind him that she used to have a fiancé around his size and that they could figure something out with what he had left at her house. Sherlock forgot how long that ring had been off her finger; he figured that as long as it stayed off, he was content.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing as Sherlock, so I suppose we'll see how it went! lol  
> Have a good day, everybody.


End file.
